Silvertongue
by AudeTheThird
Summary: Darcy and Loki make a bet that involves someone getting naked. Tasertricks. Thane.


"So, let me reaffirm this lesson in Midguardian guest customs..."

"Affirm away, but I don't think those'll get any firmer." She prodded his bicep with the tip of her pen. The bulgy muscle sprung back into place, and she made a low humming noise to voice her appreciation.

Loki, from his place on the couch, inclined his head ever-so-slightly to the left, listening.

"It is prudent for all single male house guests to walk about the home stead in their undergarments... In the event they are found wanting by their host." Adorable blonde eyebrows came together on his forehead, concentration almost painful on his face. "I do not understand the _why _of it."

"You don't understand rugby, but you like that." she reminded him.

"I like the hands on component of your sport. The 'tackling'." He beamed widely at her, and Darcy sighed under the glowing effect it had on his handsome face, the way the sky itself brightened, quite literally.

Loki briefly rolled his eyes, letting slip a short sigh that made Darcy glare at him over her shoulder. He didn't bother looking at her, merely tapping the top of his wrist in indication of the time.

"If you go ahead and stay half naked," she continued. "You'll probably get tackled in here, too, in some much more enjoyable way. Look, I just thought you should know it's a little... you know. Impolite. I know _I'm_ not offended..." she put a hand on her chest, innocently batting her lashes. He nodded solemnly, almost thanking her with a grim expression.

"Because I know that you weren't aware." Loki cleared his throat. She was running out of time. "It's just in the event you offend _Jane_. By wearing your clothes. Juss sayin'."

"And you are certain this is your custom...?"

"I wouldn't expect you to know, it's cool. Jane hasn't said anything about because... She thought you have a significant other."

"But I do not!" he was totally mollified.

"Well, that's how you're exempt from the rule. Like the Grinch, over there, seeing as how he's with me." she waved over her shoulder in Loki's general direction. "You have to be available, to walk around mostly naked,_ obviously. _Other wise there would be people in their underwear all over the place."

"Of course." He popped to his feet. His shirt was promptly flung from his body across the room as if it were on fire, pants gathering in a pile on the floor around his ankles to be kicked away in a similar fashion, almost wrapping around Loki's skull, if not for him ducking reflexively out of the way. "You are a good friend, Darcy Lewis."

"Yes, yes I am." she gave him an appreciative once over. "You'd better go for a walk and see if you can't catch yourself a Janey bird, huh? I'm absolutely sure she's gonna wanna see you."

He grinned at her, and damn near skipped out, all six feet and some change of blonde, structured, and bounding.

Loki sighed again.

"Three minutes, twenty three seconds." he said dryly. "And he was not completely naked, so I still win."

"The parameters were one lie, total nudity, five minutes." she corrected. "You didn't say that had to be_ completely_ up to me."

The thought lowered into Loki's brain that Darcy may have won by sending Thor out to the easily provoked wolf dressed in nothing but bright red trunks, and slowly made him rise into standing. He turned to the table with an eyebrow cocked, a smirk winding on his mouth.

"You aren't allowed to interfere." she told him, wagging a finger in his direction. "You promised. I _told_ you I could silvertongue when I wanted to. You didn't believe me."

"In future, I will count it among one of your finest qualities." he mused, pacing over to her. He laid a gentle hand on the top of her head, smoothing back the chaotic flyaways to brace the back of her neck, drawing her nearer to him. "But I will never again be convinced of any Midguardian customs, dearest, especially the ones concerning the removal of clothes."

"All of them?" she smiled prettily, tilting her head to the side. Her hands went to his chest, crawling like pale spiders up to his shoulders, linking around the back of his neck. "What about the fun ones?"

He had to think about that a long moment.

"The Aesir share that particular custom." he mused, and lowered his mouth to hers. "But I'm fairly certain it may be of equal amounts of fun with clothes on, little pretty liar."

She just angled her head, digging blunt nails against the back of his neck.

"Prove it, oh so mighty trickster god."

And he did.

Twice.


End file.
